


date disturbances

by nezstorm



Series: prompts [17]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-30 01:54:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13940061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nezstorm/pseuds/nezstorm
Summary: “This is why we can’t have nice things,” Stiles mutters under his nose as he storms into the restroom, heading straight for the paper towel dispenser.





	date disturbances

**Author's Note:**

  * For [neglectedtuesday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neglectedtuesday/gifts).



“This is why we can’t have nice things,” Stiles mutters under his nose as he storms into the restroom, heading straight for the paper towel dispenser.

He pulls out a whole stack of paper towels and mops uselessly at his shirt, trying to at least keep the stain from spreading to his dress pants. 

He hears the door open and close softly, sees Deucalion’s reflection in the mirrors as he edges carefully towards Stiles. Stiles doesn’t pay him any mind, just keeps angrily pressing wads of paper towels against his wine-stained shirt.

Stiles feels fingers gently touching his hip, a tentative thing meant to test the waters, when he doesn’t react to it, a pair of strong arms wrap around him from behind, Deucalion pressing close against his back.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” Deucalion says before pressing a kiss to Stiles’ shoulder.

Stiles sighs and drops a wad of scrunched up paper towels in the sink. He locks his gaze with Deucalion’s in the mirror, notes his boyfriend’s remorseful gaze and the careful way he’s holding Stiles. 

Remembers the stony expression Deucalion wore not ten minutes ago as they sat at their table, their waiter unsublty hitting on Stiles before Deucalion instilled the fear of god in him, the waiter spilling wine all over Stiles’ crisp white shirt in the process. 

Werewolves, Stiles thinks, mentally shaking his head.

He slumps in Deucalion’s hold, trusting the man to hold up his weight. 

“You’re absolutely ridiculous,” he tells Deucalion. 

“I know, love, I apologize.”

“Is this how it’s always going to be when we go out? Or is it because we haven’t seen each other in a month?” Stiles has been stuck at school, buried under essays and group projects, and college altogether. They talked over the phone every night and Stiles texted throughout the day if he could, but he missed Deucalion a lot.

Obviously, Deucalion missed him just as much.

“The latter, though I’ll never be happy about others trying to take you away from me,” Deucalion says, “I trust what we have and I trust you, but you’re so young and so beautiful. I can’t not worry.”

Stiles turns around in Deucalion’s hold and very carefully doesn’t press close against him, mindful of his dirty shirt. Deucalion doesn’t have any reservations and just pulls Stiles close, nosing at the line of Stiles’ jaw.

“So ridiculous,” Stiles repeats even as he presses short, sweet kisses to Deucalion’s mouth, “But you’re my ridiculous wolf.”

“Only yours,” Deucalion promises as he chases after Stiles’ mouth.

“You also owe me a shirt,” Stiles says playfully as he pulls away, catching Deucalion’s hands in his and pulling Deucalion along, “After you take this one off of me.”


End file.
